In the darkest corners of the brain, Neuron in Yellow lives in a house on the outskirts of a town, near a graveyard with cross-shaped graves where neurons that die are going to rest for eternity. Every night the neurons that live in the town, in the middle of the night, witness a being with open eyes that wanders knocking on the doors, speaking incoherence and eating any food that passes through it´s path, even objects that would not be eaten normally. They call it the “NeuroZombie.”
They say that it is missing an eye and that it walks with a skeleton hand that follows it everywhere, and that this hand sometimes jumps and adjusts to his wrist. The Neuron in Yellow knows the legend, but has never seen this being. She thinks there are ghosts in her house because every morning when she wakes up, she sees open windows and doors in her house, and there are traces of dirt as if someone had entered.
One day the town’s neurons decided to follow this being arming themselves with courage, since they were already running out of food. At 3:33 AM they waited attentively. And it appeared, and this time instead of hiding they watched it closely: To everyone’s surprise it was Neuron in Yellow: She had her eyes fixed and moved awkwardly. They decided to follow her.
After eating, she went to her house where she opened doors and windows and left traces of dirt on the floor. The neurons saw sleeping pills on Neuron in Yellow´s bedside table (they knew she had trouble falling asleep and had been prescribed these drugs).
The neurons went to talk to the microglia and the astrocyte, who were in charge of the brain’s medicines, and told them what was happening with the Neuron in Yellow. At the time they responded: “We told her to be careful with those remedies, this could happen if she took those pills!”
In the morning they went to talk to Neuron in Yellow and told her that she should stop taking those drugs and improve her sleep or the NeuroZombie would eat all the sugar reserves in the brain! The Neuron in Yellow finally understood everything.
We must be more afraid of the living than the dead!